Well, it’s been quite a couple of weeks, once again. Though work continues to occupy most of my waking thoughts (and many of my sleeping ones), I’ve still managed to keep my pointy-headed geek side fed with election and economic news as well. And I’ve been cooking, turning out lots of comfort food, mostly. It’s the perfect thing for the moment, with the nasty economic downturn, uncertain times ahead for many of us, and winter coming on strong. Comfort food is accessible, imminently affordable, adaptable and delicious to boot.

I’ve really been making an effort to buy quality ingredients and eat locally since reading about the abuse at large-scale farms and slaughterhouses. I just can’t stomach the thought of contributing to that kind of depravity, so when I got an email from the Bobolink folks announcing the sale of their whey-fed pork, I placed an order for some of the nasty bits that are pretty hard to find, anyway — feet, knuckles, and necks.

For my first meal, I made a basic, but delicious pork neck ragu shamlessly ripped off from inspired by Jen’s post from a few weeks ago. You traditional types out there will be horrified, but my family’s red sauces always started with a roux, so that was my jumping-off point; it really adds a depth of flavor you just can’t get otherwise. I heavily salted the pork necks and browned them very well in the dark roux, moved them from the pan, then sautéed chopped onion, celery, garlic, carrot and a bay leaf in a little extra olive oil added to the roux. Once the vegetables had softened, I added a few tablespoons of tomato paste to a hot spot in the pan, stirring until it caramelized; a few glugs of dry white wine, some fresh thyme springs, and two cups of chicken stock went in next, and once it came to a boil, I nested the pork necks in the sauce. After covering the pan tightly, I put it in a 325-degree oven for about three hours.

I took the necks out of the sauce and pulled the meat from the bones once they were cool enough to handle. Then I simmered the shredded pork in the sauce until much of the liquid had evaporated, set aside 2/3 to freeze for a later meal, and served the rest (loosened with a little pasta water) with penne.

Totally comforting, completely delicious, and didn’t break the bank. I’d call it a success.

And Happy Halloween, everyone! May your evenings be filled with candy and costumes.

I’m a big fan of Apartment Therapy’s food blog, The Kitchn; they post frequently about a wide range of subjects and I’ve found quite a few recipes there that have gone into regular rotation in our home. Unfortunately, this isn’t one of them.

The post linked to Gourmet’s Cumin-Apple Crisps and a bright idea was born as I realized: “Hey, I love apples and I’m totally into cumin!” Unfortunately, I love apples so much, I didn’t have any in the house. I decided to use a bosc pear instead, which might’ve led to my latest kitchen disaster (though I suspect the unholy union of cumin and sugar contributed).

Out came the mandoline — my favorite kitchen toy — and I sliced one of the pears, snatching a few thin slivers for myself along the way. I sifted the cumin and sugar together, sampling a tiny bit before sprinkling it over the crisps; it was horrible, but I hoped some wondrous alchemy would take place in the oven and continued with the recipe.

Ninety minutes later I realized just how misplaced my optimism was, as my tongue turned inside-out to get away from the taste of the chips.

Now, it’s (probably) entirely my fault for substituting pears for apples, but the sugar and cumin just did not marry well on that platform. Maybe next time I’ll try The Kitchn’s suggestion and use cinnamon instead of cumin.

It’s a shame these were such a huge disappointment. They were so pretty:

Soooo, where were we, anyway? Oh, right — I went into an end-of-the-summer-I-never-got-to-enjoy funk, and took to tending my vapors on the chaise in diaphanous dresses, as any proper Southern Woman should. OK, not really, but I love the ridiculous picture that paints. (“Gil, do be a dear and bring me a glass of water with just one ice cube — shaved — and a paper-thin slice of lemon. And no blood on the citrus this time, if you don’t mind tooooo terribly?”) As luck would have it, the work schedule that’s been eating me alive is going to get So Much Better soon that I started to come out of my funk last weekend and snapped a few pictures of the goings-on in my kitchen.

And what was going on, my friends, was making a little something called apple crisp. Maybe you’ve heard of it? Seven years ago I hit upon the nearly-perfect recipe for this dessert, made minor modifications, and that was that. It’s something Gil requests almost weekly during fall and winter months, so I’d say it’s one of the few clear winners ever to come from our kitchen.

Given the general righteousness of the recipe, it’s maybe a little surprising that I made more changes to it last week. “Why would you do such a thing?” you ask. I’ll let you in on a little secret here, because it’s just the two of us … I’m a little lazy. Quelle surprise! See, Gil and I were planning to take Rufus up to Warwick last weekend for Apple Fest (Greyhound Friends of NJ had a booth there) and I thought it’d be fun to enter an apple pie in the contest. I counted on nothing short of last place, but started dreaming of recipes anyway.

And then my thoughts quickly turned to meeting my arch-nemesis, Pie Dough, and procrastination set in.

Oh, look! A cute bedgraggled doggie!

See what I mean? All about the procrastination.

So I never did get around to baking that pie, is what I’m saying, though I did manage to make a big pot of dulce de leche for the filling. With no real uses for for the dulce de leche (apart from eating it by the spoonful), I brought half of it to work for the production department. I still had a ton left, so I rejiggered my old favorite apple crisp recipe. (I know you’re thinking you could get through ANY amount of dulce de leche without complaining, and maybe you’re right, but my Beavis impression wore thin after a few hours so clearly something had to be done.)

It might not look like much, but c’mon…dollops of creamy dulce de leche over cinnamon-spiked apples. What could be better?

Because I tampered with the filling, the topping deserved equal attention, so I added 8 ground gingersnap cookies to the oat mixture. The ginger flavor was subtle and I’ll probably add more to the mixture if I make it again, but I was pleased with the outcome, even if it didn’t win any awards in a competition.

recipes after the jump

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